by pbsartist | Sep 1, 2017 | Uncategorized
As you will hear some people read poetry so that no mortal could tell it was poetry, so do some people read their own lives and those of others. George MacDonald, Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood summer, having abruptly ended, September 1 arrives....
by pbsartist | Aug 28, 2017 | Uncategorized
it is May in the southeast. smells are all around deep earth growing smells wet asphalt warming smells leaves and grass and sprouts shooting effort to be smells it is a time of bright tingling aliveness everything in me is right there right there painfully almost...
by pbsartist | Aug 23, 2017 | Uncategorized
‘There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me.’ C.S. Lewis Several times a year now the doors slam shut. Silence outside and immense, cacophonous chatter within. Productive. But in an entirely different way. There is no one else to touch....
by pbsartist | Aug 23, 2017 | Uncategorized
‘People are sewn into their skins for life and cannot alter any of the seams, at least not with their own hands.’ Kafka I’ve been searching through my data base of past lives my childhood teen years young adult new mother recently divorced...
by pbsartist | Aug 22, 2017 | Uncategorized
‘No one suspects the days to be Gods.’ What have we lost, because this is true? Who anymore starts the day on their knees in awe? Not obligatory praise but heart-expanding wonder that drops one to ones knees and nothing short of gratitudinal words,...
